


We'll Never Throw Your Card Away

by theparadoxicalfox, TrulyMightyPotato



Series: Royal Flush [46]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Don't worry there's fluff at the end, Implied Torture, M for violence, eye gore, features terrible things happening in dark basements, honestly after PPC I think this counts as series-typical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29766603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theparadoxicalfox/pseuds/theparadoxicalfox, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrulyMightyPotato/pseuds/TrulyMightyPotato
Summary: November 1920. Something about dark basements attracts not-so-nice people.
Series: Royal Flush [46]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/699969
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	We'll Never Throw Your Card Away

_ November 27, 1920 _

“Is your mask an omega because it’s the last thing people see?”

The voice echoed quietly through the barren, hollow room. Ohm closed his eyes behind the blindfold, listening to the footsteps pacing around the chair he was tied to. His forehead was still bleeding from where his face had been smashed into the wall, but at least his nose and tongue had stopped. Still, the blindfold was sticky with his own blood, and he was starting to get dizzy. Closing his eyes helped with both of those things.

“You’re really very quiet.” The woman mused. “I wasn’t expecting that. You’re a trained killer, of course, but you’ve been captured. Wouldn’t noise alert your allies to your location?” A cool hand brushed over his cheek, wiping away blood. “You’re badly injured, after all.”

He knew. Blood didn’t trickle down to your socks on normal days, after all. If he’d still been wearing shoes, he was sure they’d be filled.

Though, if he was completely honest, it was a little hard to tell exactly how badly injured he was. After a while, all of the pain kind of dissolved into a general sort of agony. If he focused, he could pick out individual injuries, but by now there were so many that it really didn’t seem to matter.

He wiggled his fingers slowly—or at least, he tried to. Between the thick rope tying his wrists together and the broken bones in his hands, it was far too difficult.

“You’ve proven remarkably resilient to everything I’ve thrown at you.” The woman was close enough for him to feel her breath, for the smell of it to get its way into his nose despite the dried blood filling it. Garlic. Didn’t mix well with the scent of blood. “Most people are screaming for death by now.”

His left hand, though... Ohm wiggled his fingers, clenching his jaw to keep from screaming as agony ran up his arm. He could move them, just as long as he held his arm still. It was almost certainly broken, but he hadn’t been able to examine it to find out for sure. But, with one hand with functioning fingers, he might be able to slowly undo the knots around his wrist.

But the woman had to leave first.

Though, given that she’d just showed up, that seemed unlikely. In fact, it was very much more likely that he was about to be in for another entire world of hurt.

“You know, there’s an easy way out of this.” Fingers drifted across his shoulders. Was it supposed to be comforting? “I left the Faceless a long time ago, you know.”

Ohm didn’t move at her words, though he started listening more closely. Her being ex-Faceless explained how she’d even been able to capture him, restrain him so thoroughly.

“You could always join us.” Her voice was almost a purr now, directly in his ear. It made him want to stick a finger in there and clean it out. “There are a few of us now. I was the first recruit, but you’re strong and clever. You’d be a good addition to the team.” Her hands draped around his neck like they were old friends. “We could use your help taking down the Faceless.”

Ohm’s eyes snapped open—an action he immediately regretted as his own blood trickled into them. He flinched bodily, trying to keep from screaming. Things in general in his eyes weren’t pleasant. His own blood? Definitely painful.

“You’re crying?” She seemed surprised about that. “Why?”

If Ohm had been more aggressive, or been willing to risk everything on angering her, he might have said something like ‘because you’ve repeatedly slammed my face into the wall and have broken many bones in my body and refuse to give me medical treatment’ or maybe a more simple ‘go stab your eyes out.’ As it was, just let his head drop back onto the back of the chair, trying to ride through the pain as silently as possible.

That was when he heard it: the soft sound of a distant door opening. And he could have sworn... that smell, it was the soap in the team’s apartment-

Ah. So he’d reached the delirium stage of being tortured. Was that a real stage? He wasn’t really entirely sure. He couldn’t remember the lessons, that class had been so long ago. Even if it was (it was, he argued with himself), hallucinating a smell was pretty impressive. 

Well, he hadn’t eaten once since he’d been captured, so maybe it wasn’t really all that surprising. And the water he’d been given had tasted odd. Maybe he’d gotten sick and was so feverish he was imagining things. It wouldn’t surprise him, not at this point.

The woman was still talking, but Ohm wasn’t listening anymore. The pain was finally overtaking him, and he couldn’t force himself to pay attention any longer. Not when the world seemed to be tilting, even though he couldn’t see a thing.

She was still talking, but he gave in to the inevitable and passed out.

♣♥♠♦

Cartoonz crept slowly down the stairs, careful not to make any sound. It was agonizing, going this slowly, with the knowledge that Ohm was in danger and very likely badly injured—but if anyone heard them coming in, Ohm would be the one to suffer the consequences.

He could hear the soft breathing of their teammates behind him, motions quiet and steps soft on the stone floor. Vanoss, ready for a fight. Delirious, holding their pack of emergency medical supplies that Ohm would almost certainly need.

They’d been told not to go after Ohm, not without a lot more resources and planning, but the neighbors had said they’d heard screaming from the basement. And Cartoonz, well, he’d promised he’d never leave Ohm behind, hadn’t he? He’d promised hundreds of times. Ohm had never seemed to believe it, but that wasn’t good enough.

So here they were, defying direct orders and putting their lives at risk.

He stepped onto the floor, eyes scanning around the room they’d found themselves in. It was largely dim, and difficult to see, though if he closed one eye for a moment and opened it again it was at least a bit easier, if rather disorienting.

A light flickered at the far end of the basement, along with a soft voice.

Cartoonz gestured to the others, and they slowly spread out, searching the basement methodically for danger. The last thing they wanted was to rescue Ohm just to find out it was a trap the whole time. Then the other Faceless in the city would have to rescue four people instead of just one.

He cursed silently at the memory of everything going wrong. It had been routine… until it wasn’t. As they had run from the scene of the crime Ohm had gone down with a cry, something wrapped around his ankles. Cartoonz had stopped, tried to help, but someone got the jump on him and decked Cartoonz with a brass knuckled fist. Del had had to drag him away. And Vanoss, on a nearby roof, had been the one able to describe what the people who had taken Ohm looked like.

Which, 36 hours later, had led them here.

They definitely didn’t have much time. Faceless almost never lasted longer than 48 hours in a hostage situation. And given the reports of screaming...

He never should have agreed to the mission. Ohm had promised he was recovered from what Crimson had done, but the way he’d gone down- no, there was no use thinking about it. Not now.

He stepped closer to the light, freezing as he took in the scene in front of him.

A woman, leaning against a table, sipping at some drink. In front of her, a slumped and bloodied form, tied to a chair. She was examining Ohm’s mask: a mask that now had a large crack running through it, paint and finish chipped off by whatever impact had done that damage. And Ohm, Ohm seemed to be unconscious. Blood was dripping down his forehead and clotting thickly in his hair.

He steeled himself and gestured to the others.

Ohm: unconscious. Hostiles: one.

The three of them crept forward in unison, being careful not to move too slowly. As soon as she saw them, it was game over. She could try to run; or worse, kill Ohm.

She set Ohm’s mask down. “How many of you are there?” She sounded more curious than alarmed, but they all froze in place. “Why hasn’t your team come to rescue you?” She set her hand on Ohm, then pulled away fingers coated in blood, examining it thoughtfully. “You won’t last much longer, I think. A pity. I’m sure I could have convinced you to join us, given enough time.”

Cartoonz kept low, then continued to creep forward.

The woman’s head snapped up, eyes turning to the shadows where Cartoonz and the others hid. “I heard that.” She stepped close to Ohm, grabbing his hair with one hand and yanking his head up and putting a knife to his throat with the other. “Don’t come any closer.”

Cartoonz obediently held still.

“Stand up where I can see you.”

Cartoonz slowly stood, keeping his hands visible. Delirious followed suit.

Vanoss stayed hidden, quietly moving around the edge of the room.

“Two Faceless.” She raised an eyebrow, then let go of Ohm. His head dropped like a stone, nearly slamming into the post of the back of the chair. “I thought he would have a bigger team than that. Most have another.”

Cartoonz didn’t bother responding to that.

She put the knife to Ohm’s throat again. “Where’s your fourth?”

Cartoonz scoffed. “Haven’t had another in almost a year.” Not since Crimson had turned and run before Cartoonz could get his hands on him.

“Oh?” She glanced at Ohm. “I suppose that explains your desperation to rescue him. Two members of the team dying in as many years? That won’t look good on your records.” She smiled thinly. “I can offer you an alternative. Something more fair, that doesn’t cast aside lives like moldy bread.”

“A lovely comparison, really, but I’m not interested.”

Vanoss was under the table now, behind her legs.

“Let me have him, and we’ll be out of your hair.” Cartoonz looked at her, both of his eyes meeting hers. “That’s all.”

She raised an eyebrow, then pulled her knife away from Ohm’s throat. “A simple request.”

Cartoonz sighed softly.

She slammed it into Ohm’s chest, blade slipping between his bones. “I’m not interested.”

Vanoss tackled her, knocking her forward and onto the floor. Cartoonz scrambled forward, hurrying to untie Ohm, while Delirious started muttering things under his breath, frantically skidding to a stop next to the chair.

Vanoss and the woman struggled on the floor while Cartoonz cut the ropes holding Ohm to the chair. Delirious barely caught Ohm when he slumped forward, blood flowing freely from the newly opened gash in his chest.

“He- He’s hurt real bad,” Delirious stammered, helping Cartoonz gently lower Ohm’s unconscious form to the floor. “I don’t- I’ve never had to help someone this hurt.”

“Do your best.” Cartoonz crouched next to Ohm, searching for a pulse. There. Rapidly weakening, but there. “Try to stop the bleeding, at least.”

“I’m gonna need help.”

“Yeah.” Cartoonz sat, resting Ohm’s head in his lap. “I’m here.” He frowned, fingers running over the blood-stained blindfold, feeling the dried blood and the sweat running off Ohm’s head. He swallowed, then leaned forward, pinning Ohm’s arms with his own. “I’ve got him pinned.”

Delirious packed a bunch of gauze on the new gash. Even unconscious, even seriously injured, Ohm flinched bodily. Had Cartoonz not been pinning him, he would have lashed out, and probably hurt himself more.

Delirious moved quickly, wrapping Ohm with a bandage to pin down the gauze. Neither of them dared remove the knife—they both knew that would be a death sentence. Still, the gauze soaked through with blood quickly, and brilliant red continued to spread across Ohm’s clothes and the bandage.

“I-” Vanoss started, only to be cut off with the sound of something hard hitting something hard. “ _ Shit! _ ”

Cartoonz stood, glancing at Ohm. “Can you get him out alone?”

Delirious nodded hesitantly, then again more firmly.

Cartoonz turned to help Vanoss with the woman. Vanoss was struggling to keep her down, arms and legs wrapped around her in a desperate hold.

She grabbed Vanoss’ mask and, hardly staying up herself, slammed his head into the floor, creating that sound again.

Cartoonz tackled and pinned her. Vanoss groaned, falling still on the floor, breathing heavily.

He flicked his gaze back to the woman in time to catch the glint of a bloodied blade before agony erupted in his eye and half his vision shattered into a haze of near-darkness.

He screamed. He screamed so loudly he could hardly hear the sound of a gun going off, hardly feel the woman’s body go limp underneath him.

“-oonz!”

He crumpled to the floor, curling in on himself. His hands instinctively pressed to his face, his mask, the knife still embedded in the hardened leather and his eye.

_ “Luke!” _

A figure was standing over him, gripping his shoulders, but he couldn’t make out who it was. Half his vision was gone,  _ gone,  _ and the rest of it was obscured by a blur of tears.

“I-” he said weakly, feeling nausea rush up through him.  _ I don’t feel good.  _ He never got the chance to finish the sentence, though, because the next wave that washed over him was a wave of nothing, dragging him under the surface of consciousness.

Vanoss cursed, looking up from Cartoonz.

“We gotta get them out of here,” Delirious said, looking towards the stairs up to the first floor. “We- the car.” He looked at Vanoss. “Right?”

Vanoss nodded. “Right. We’ve gotta get them to medics.  _ Now. _ ” He bent down, scooping up Cartoonz, careful not to jostle the knife sticking out of his face. “Let’s hurry.”

Delirious nodded decisively, and, with Ohm in his arms, headed up the stairs.

♣♥♠♦

_ December 3 _

Winter sun streamed in gently through the window, diffused softly by the overcast sky and the sparse snow falling outside. The room was plenty warm, though—almost too warm, in fact, due to the four bodies in it.

Ohm examined Delirious and Vanoss tiredly, unable to help the smile touching his face at the two of them sprawling on the other bed in the room, exhausted but refusing to leave them unprotected after what had happened.

“Move over,” Cartoonz’s voice cut across Ohm’s thoughts.

Ohm complied, slowly shifting to one side of the hospital bed. Once there was enough space, Cartoonz pulled himself up onto the bed, flopping back and staring up at the ceiling.

Ohm didn’t bother hiding the fact that he was staring at the bandage wrapped at an angle around Cartoonz’s face, over his eye. Or, at least, where his eye had been. The Faceless doctors had had to remove it to keep it from getting infected.

“You’re staring,” Cartoonz said gently.

“You came for me,” Ohm said just as softly. “I... wasn’t expecting that.”

Cartoonz turned his head slightly, then flinched and cursed, pressing a hand above his empty socket. “Course I did. I promised, didn’t I?”

Ohm hummed softly. “Does it hurt?”

“Well... not usually? The medication helps.” Cartoonz propped himself up on his elbow, still pressing his other hand into his face. “The eye’s gone, but the muscles still move like it was there. They’re still pretty beat up from everything that happened, so moving them hurt. Doc says it’ll stop pretty soon. It’s already not as bad as it was a few days ago.”

Ohm raised an eyebrow, settling against his pillow gingerly, even as throbbing pain spread out from his chest. “Are you going to get a glass eye?”

Cartoonz snorted. “Do you really think I want to stick something in my eye hole?” He shook his head. “Nah. Once they’re sure everything won’t get infected, I think I’m gonna have them seal it off.” He settled down on the mattress again, lowering his hand from his eye. “I’ll just wear an eye patch when we’re about, or something.” He chuckled softly. “If anyone asks, I’ll just tell them I lost it in the war.”

“I’m going to tell people you fell onto a stick.”

Cartoonz scoffed. “If you didn’t have stitches across half your chest, I’d whack you.”

“Good thing we’re both injured, then.”

Both of them smiled for a moment, before they both stopped.

“Ohm? You okay? You were... pretty roughed up there.” Cartoonz turned his head to look at Ohm with his remaining eye, concern filling said eye. “You’d tell me?”

Ohm considered it for a moment. He knew Cartoonz wasn’t asking about physically… that was pretty self-evident.

“I’m... not okay right now, I don’t think.” Ohm twisted his blanket in his fingers, closing his eyes. His throat felt tight, and he had to force the next words out. “Don’t think I can handle dark basements for a long time, really.” He let out a deep breath. “I think... I think I’ll be okay. It’ll take some time, that’s all.”

Cartoonz’s hand patted his arm a little clumsily before correcting trajectory and patting a little more on target.

“I’m here for you, no matter what,” Cartoonz promised. “I meant it then and I mean it now.”

“Thank you.”

A long moment of silence.

“Well I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna get some sleep right here. You mind sharing a bed, Ohm?”

“I’m not sharing my blankets. Get your own.”

Cartoonz grumbled something about “ungrateful rescues.”

Ohm chuckled once, his heart not really in it, and settled down to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested in more fics from Paradox and I, we're getting ready to start publishing a new fic in the world of a specific very popular Minecraft SMP. We'll be posting more information about it on tumblr once we're more organized, but let us know if you want us to let you all know when it goes live.
> 
> (Don't worry, we're not going to stop publishing Royal Flush. We'll be doing them concurrently.)


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